


Maybe Just Memories

by Blink_Blue



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Angst, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, post s12 finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-10-31 12:33:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10899447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink_Blue/pseuds/Blink_Blue
Summary: Dennis has a new life in North Dakota. As a rule, he doesn't think about the things he left behind. But news from Dee that Mac has since moved on, leads to a painful revelation that Dennis may have made the biggest mistake of his life.





	Maybe Just Memories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whataboutateakettle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whataboutateakettle/gifts).



_“I can’t believe you haven’t crashed and burned with this dad thing yet. I really thought this kid got the short end of the stick with you as a father.”_

Dennis snorts into his phone. Usually he’d be quick to take offense, especially with his sister. But the truth is, he’s a bit surprised himself. It hasn’t been easy, and he’s definitely made a few mistakes along the way. The learning curve is steep. Half his days are spent yanking his hair out, wondering what the hell he’s even doing in fucking North Dakota. The other half are spent sharing truly tender, heartwarming moments with his son. And he’s pretty sure he can’t get that anywhere else, so… it’s all worth it in the end.

_“You need to send me more pictures. I want to see my nephew.”_

Dennis grins, though Dee can’t see it. But he’s thinking back to the day he spent with Brian Jr in the park just a few days ago. He’s got some great photos on his phone of Brian on the swings with the biggest smile on his face. “Yeah I’ll send you some pics soon,” he says softly.

There’s a pause on the other end. “Thanks Dennis,” Dee eventually replies.

Dennis knows that tone. He’s known Dee for forty years, and every damn day for most of their lives, he’d wake up and relentlessly mock his sister, all the while knowing that their relationship is not one that can be easily explained or understood. But Dee knows him too.

“You miss me?” Dennis says it like a joke. Dee knows it’s more than that.

“Of course not, you turd.” Dee’s voice is harsh and mocking over the phone, but the familiarity makes Dennis smile, which of course, was the point all along.

“How’s the gang?”

“Same old, same old.” Dee tells him, the same thing she says every time they talk on the phone. Charlie and Frank relentlessly deal with Charlie’s ongoing Waitress Fiasco. Mac and Dee keep the bar running. It seems Paddy’s didn’t need him as much as he thought it did. The arrogant, egotistic side of him half hoped it might crumble to pieces after he left Philly.

“How’s Mac?”

Dee pauses again and Dennis fucking hates her for it. If she were there he’d threaten to slap her in the teeth.

_“Same old Mac.”_

“Really?” Dennis swears there isn’t a hitch in his voice or anything. He’s not eager to know about the guy, that’s for sure. “Nothing new?”

_“I actually haven’t seen him around much lately.”_

“And why is that?”

_“Well, he’s… been busy…”_

“Busy with what?” Dennis demands, as he tries to keep his voice even. “I thought you said the gang was same old, same old?”

Dee sighs softly on the other end. “He’s been seeing someone, okay?”

Dennis’ heart sinks heavily into the pit of his stomach. A bit of bile might have even splashed into his throat and he’s suddenly grateful that he had already been sitting. “Seeing someone?” He asks hoarsely. “Is it serious?”

_“It’s only been a couple of weeks, but… Mac seems to like him and… I don’t know, I didn’t want to tell you. I–I know how weird it must be for you and–”_

“Weird?” Dennis’ voice cracks horribly but he chuckles and hopes Dee didn’t catch it. “Why would it be weird? Good for him, I say. It’s about damn time.”

_“Dennis, you don’t have to–”_

“No, I mean it. I’m serious, good for him. Good for him… about damn time.” He realizes he’d just repeated himself an awful lot, and he curses his sister for knowing him too damn well. And then he suddenly really needs to get off the phone with her because his mind is being bombarded with images of Mac with a buff, handsome, well-endowed man with excellent taste in culinary cuisine and _damn it_ it’s not supposed to hurt this badly so he blinks rapidly and tries to think fast. “You know what, I gotta go. I–I just remembered I’m supposed to read to Brian Jr before bed and it is _definitely_ past his bedtime.”

_“Dennis, it’s nine thirty–”_

“No. No, no, here’s it’s actually eight thirty–” Fuck that actually hurts his argument. “You know what, I gotta go, I’ll–I’ll talk to you later, Dee.”

_“Dennis–”_

“I’ll send you those pictures–”

_“Please don’t–”_

“Bye!” Dennis slams his thumb over the end call button and hopes his voice didn’t actually sound as hysterical to Dee as it did to his own ears. It probably did.

Fuck.

Dennis closes his eyes and lets his head drop into his hands.

It’s not supposed to hurt this badly. But it does. Because he’s remembering warm brown eyes and strong hands and the smell of stupid fucking _Drakkar Noir–_ and suddenly, it’s like everything he’d repressed for the past three months all comes rushing back at once–and _god_ it hurts.

Three months. Three long months since he’d seen Mac’s face, or even heard his voice, because for some fucked up reason Dennis can’t bring himself to answer the phone whenever Mac called him. Like there’s this awful, cynical mental block that causes him to ignore every call, telling–lying to himself that it’s just an inconvenient time and he’d call him back later. Though he never did. And the days pushed to weeks and turned to months. And eventually Mac stopped calling.

Dennis takes out his phone again. He scrolls through the few contacts he has and almost chokes when he sees the name. His thumb hovers over it, shaking. It would be _so_ easy–

He’s never known intimacy like what he shared with Mac. They were always more than friends. Crossing that line again and again only to jump back behind it before they go too far. And now Dennis just _really_ wants to see Mac. See him and touch him and hear him. At least the last one is possible.

His thumb hits the call button and he presses his phone against his ear. The line trills over and over. _Pick up, pick up, pick up, you son of a bitch._ With each unanswered ring, Dennis feels his heart sink deeper in his chest. He wonders if this is how Mac felt each time his calls went unanswered.

Dennis drops his head and the phone slips from his fingers, landing softly on the carpet.

He doesn’t want to think about why Mac might be ignoring his call. His heart aches and his eyes burn. He remembers kisses that taste like whiskey. Every lost moment they shared over the years comes back. So many times when he would pretend he didn’t notice the way Mac would look at him when he thought he wasn’t looking. And whenever Mac’s lips would part to say something Dennis didn’t have the strength to hear so he walked away instead. He remembers the way his breath would catch in his throat, burn like acid on his tongue, so he pulled back. But the distance never seemed enough. And it only got harder when Mac finally came out and stayed out. So Dennis kept pulling, kept distancing, kept running until he’s sixteen hundred miles away.

And maybe this time, he’s gone too far.

He can’t get the sick feeling out of his stomach. Every last shred of denial that he’d held onto and deluded himself into believing disappears like smoke. And he can’t deny it anymore. He misses Mac. He misses the days when they couldn’t go an hour without checking in with each other. He misses their monthly dinners, the one night a month when they would go out to a nice restaurant and enjoy each other’s company under the guise of simply splurging on themselves. He misses the way Mac always knew how to make him laugh.

He finds himself yearning even the annoying aspects of Mac’s personality that he’d long convinced himself he hated. Like when Mac would act the nagging, bossy wife who complained endlessly, but would still clean up after him and make sure he eats every meal. Or when Dennis would rage and Mac would look at him like some lovesick puppy that got smacked on the nose with a newspaper. But he wouldn’t leave. Because Mac would never leave him of his own accord.

All these things that Dennis didn’t let himself think about in the past few months.

And now he can’t stop wondering how Mac is doing without him. Who is this new man Mac is seeing? Has Mac replaced him already? With a newer, younger model that does everything Dennis did for him, except better? The thoughts and images he sees in his mind’s eye are worse than not knowing.

Dennis calls Mac four more times over the next three hours with no answer. So he’s left to stew in his own rage and self pity, all the while cursing some faceless man who’s stolen his best friend from him. Can he even call Mac that anymore? When they haven’t spoken a word in three months.

Hours later, when Mandy gets back from dinner at her parents’ with Brian Jr carefully balanced on her hip–yes, of course he was lying to Dee–and sees him sitting motionless on the couch, he doesn’t answer the probing questions on her face, nor does she mention his red rimmed eyes. She gives him a sympathetic smile and goes to settle their son down for bed before retiring to her bedroom. He’s grateful she lets it go without question.

Mac would have pestered him until he finally gave in and spilled. But Mandy isn’t Mac. And Dennis doesn’t want her to be.  

Their house is silent when Dennis’ phone finally starts ringing. He looks at the name on the screen and thinks for a second he might be imagining it. But he answers with a rough _“hello,”_ and finally hears the voice he hasn’t heard in three long months.

_“Hey… Dennis.”_

Dennis hears the hesitation in the other man’s voice and his heart constricts painfully in his chest. “Mac…”

_“I was… surprised to see your missed calls.”_

“Hi, um… how have you been?” Dennis asks shakily. No word for three months and that’s the best he can come up with on the spot. He wouldn’t be surprised if Mac hangs up on him.

“Good,” Mac answers shortly. “And you?”

Dennis isn’t used to Mac with short, curt answers. There’s uncertainty in the other man’s voice and it mirrors the fear and desperation that weighs heavily on his own chest. “Good. I’m–I’m good,” he stutters nervously. “Uh… things are really different in North Dakota. I swear it’s worse than the suburbs outside Philly.” He chuckles softly as he briefly relives _those_ memories. But it’s as short lived as their little stint playing house because he doesn’t get an answer from the other end of the line.

“Um, this… this definitely took some getting used to. You know I don’t know shit about being a dad. You’d probably be better at it than I am, to be honest. I kinda… kinda wish you were doing this with me.” There’s a heavy beat of silence as Dennis’ voice trails off. He bites his lip when the magnitude of his rambling hits him full force. “I’m sorry I never answer your calls,” he blurts out. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Mac eventually says softly. “Why’d you call me now?”

“I wanted to hear your voice.”

_“Wow. That almost sounds sweet.”_

Dennis cringes at the bitterness in the other man’s voice. It was never this hard with Mac. But now they’re broken and he doesn’t know how to fix it. They never resolved things between them. It was all left unsaid and that was Dennis’ fault and he knows that now. But what can he do?

“Why are you whispering?” There’s nothing but silence on the other end of the line. Dennis trembles as he tries to keep it together. “Are you with him?”

_“Did Dee tell you?”_

Dennis swallows, taking that for the unspoken answer it is. “Who is he?”

He hears Mac sigh softly. “Just some guy that came into Paddy’s one night. We started talking and just… kind of hit it off.”

“You like him?”

Mac chuckles into his ear. “Yeah, of course I like him. I wouldn’t be going out with him if I didn’t.”

“You love him?”

There’s a heavy pause before Mac answers. “It’s a bit early for that. And anyway… love kind of has a tendency to bite me in the ass.”

Dennis was wrong when he didn’t think it could hurt worse than it did. “Mac…”

“Look, I get why you left,” Mac interrupts him. “You wanted to be dad, maybe you _needed_ to be a dad. And I’m so fucking happy for you, as long as you’re happy. And I know that it’s partially my fault you left, I know I came on strong–”

“Mac–”

_“And yeah, it was really hard at first. I missed you so much. I stayed at Dee’s place for a while after you left, and may have overstayed my welcome. I cleaned the hell out of her shitty apartment, ungrateful bitch still kicked me out.”_

A small grin tugs at Dennis’ lips as he remembers how Mac would go on a vicious cleaning spree whenever he’d get upset. And usually that would be because Dennis did something to upset him.

“I miss you too,” Dennis says genuinely. There’s a brief but wonderful feeling of relief upon finally saying those words out loud.

_“Why didn’t you answer my calls?”_

Dennis forces a tight, faked smile even though Mac can’t see it. “It was just… too hard to talk to you.” It’s such an inadequate answer, even to his own ears. He’s holding the broken pieces of their friendship in his hands, and all he can say is that ‘it was too hard’.

“I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to _see_ you,” Dennis admits. “I just couldn’t do it.”

_“For three months?”_

Dennis closes his eyes painfully. There were so many times he’d been tempted to answer. But it was easier to not know about Mac’s life. After all the years–decades–they spent inseparable, it would have been too hard to know Mac was existing without him. A clean break was his coward’s way out. But the reality is, he couldn’t erase Mac from his mind any more than he could erase him from his heart. He’s stuck around like a bruise that won’t heal.

“I’m so sorry,” Dennis whispers. Though he can’t remember the last time he uttered those words to another person, he’s never meant them more in his life. “I wish I could…”

“Don’t do that,” Mac murmurs, cutting him off. “I know you’ve got a good thing going, with your son… Dee's kept me updated," he explains. "I know you don’t regret that.”

“Yeah,” Dennis agrees softly, though there are other things he does regret. He ignores the way his insides twist painfully as he cradles the phone against his ear. “But I still miss you.”

_“I miss you, too.”_

Mac sounds like he’s saying it reluctantly, and Dennis can’t help but grin as he pictures the exasperation on the other man’s face.

“So how’s the apartment?”

_“It’s fine.”_

Mac probably shrugged his shoulders. The other man’s voice is still barely above a whisper, and Dennis doesn’t want to think about why.

_“I moved into your bedroom.”_

“Yeah?” Dennis grins, thinking about Mac living in his old room. “The bigger room is nice, huh?”

_“Dude, I’m still pissed at you, man.”_

“Yeah, I’m kind of pissed at myself,” Dennis says truthfully. “You there now?”

Mac gives a small cough. “Um… no,” he says lightly. “I’m… I’m at his place. He’s asleep.”

Dennis imagines this must be what it’s like to be stabbed in the heart with a steak knife.

He never thought he’d see the day where he’s living his life in the middle of nowhere North Dakota while Mac moves on happily with some guy. And fucking waits until his boyfriend is asleep before calling him. His chest throbs painfully, and his lungs feel like they’re filling with fluid as it suddenly gets very hard to breathe. But he swallows down his bitter jealousy and tries to keep his voice steady.

“What’s his name?”

Mac hesitates, like he knows Dennis doesn’t actually want to hear the name of the man he’s fucking. Like he knows Dennis is only doing it to torture himself.

_“Nate.”_

“He better be good to you,” Dennis jokes, as a strained chuckle is torn from his throat. “Don’t make me come back to Philly to kick his ass.”

“He’s good to me,” Mac says softly.

Dennis takes a shuddered breath. His jealousy burns so bright, it _hurts._ “He ever take you out to Guigino’s?”

_“Nah, man. That’s our place.”_

He only meant it as a joke. A light jest between friends. But Mac’s response really hits home. Guigino’s _was_ their place. Dennis misses those nights out more than he could have imagined. It all seems like a lifetime ago. What happened to them?

“Are you happy?” Dennis suddenly asks. “Does he make you happy?”

_“Yeah, he does.”_

“Happier than I did?”

Mac laughs softly. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Mac–”

_“Look, Dennis… it’s all in the past now. And I’m okay with that. Really, I am. I’m happy, and if you’re happy, that’s all that matters to me. I’ll still see you, man. You should visit on holidays. And bring your kid, I wanna meet him, for real this time. Maybe I can teach him some sweet karate moves! It’ll be so great! And… you know I love you, dude… I’ll always love you. But… I needed to move on… and I have. So… don’t worry about me, okay?”_

Dennis is not okay. Not even close. When this call ends, Mac is going to go back into the arms of some man Dennis has never met. This guy gets to love him, and hold him, and take him out, and fill the empty hole in his life that Dennis left behind.

And suddenly, Dennis wishes he had never left. He wishes he had never walked out of Mac’s life, taking the coward’s way out. If he had just found some way to make it work, maybe he could have spared himself this grief. He can’t stop remembering the moments they shared. They play in his mind, over and over. He couldn’t count on his hands the number of times he’d fallen asleep while watching Predator with Mac, only to wake up with the other man’s arms wrapped around him. He’d blink his eyes blearily, as the other man slept. And as his heart hammered in his chest, he would wonder how far they could keep pushing until neither of them could deny the truth any longer.

He regrets not facing that truth sooner.

Maybe he had fallen in love with his best friend. Or maybe he’d been in love with him the entire time. And now, it’s just wishful thinking that maybe he could go back and savor those moments with Mac.

As Dennis attempts to pull himself together enough to form a coherent sentence, he hears commotion on the other end of the line. He can’t quite make out the words of the other person who speaks, but Mac’s voice is clear.

_“Hey, I’m just on the phone.”_

_“Yeah. Yeah, just talkin’ to an old friend.”_

_“I’ll be right in. Go on.”_

_“Okay.”_

_“Hey, Dennis?”_

Dennis swallows the lump in his throat. He blinks away the tears that he hadn’t realized had fallen from his lashes. Soft, shallow breaths barely hide the choked little sob that breaks through, but it’s enough. “Yeah?” He says hoarsely, as he presses a hand to his face, trying to contain himself for _just_ long enough to get through the rest of this call with his dignity intact.

_“I gotta go, man.”_

“Yeah,” Dennis murmurs. “Yeah, I figured. It’s pretty late.”

_“Hey, I’ll talk to you later though, yeah?”_

“Of course. Yeah, of course.”

_“Okay, bye.”_

“Bye, Mac.”

Dennis is still trying to quench the tears as he hears the line click on the other side. This isn’t supposed to be his life. He’s not supposed to be a sobbing mess, pining over his old roommate–the white trash, piece of lower class shit from the worst neighborhood in South Philly.

His best friend. The best guy he knows.

But that is his life now. Dennis is a fucking mess, and the only person who can fix it is over a thousand miles away.

How the fuck did this happen?

Dennis misses Mac like a severed limb. The emptiness is all-consuming and absolutely crushing. He takes a shuddered breath and angrily wipes the tears from his face. Dennis Reynolds doesn’t cry. He certainly doesn’t back down without a fight.

 _God help him_ , Mac is going to rue the day he thought he could ever replace Dennis in his life.

Dennis grips his phone tightly in his hand as he runs through ideas in his head. He’s already planning on buying the cheapest, earliest flight to Philly. He’s going to make it work. He will.

It’s time to go home.


End file.
